


Somebody Else's Holiday

by Ilthit



Category: A Redtail's Dream (Webcomic)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Baking, Gen, Halloween, Werewolves, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/pseuds/Ilthit
Summary: Full moon. Shapeshifting. Hmm.





	Somebody Else's Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiraly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/gifts).

Hannu pressed the mold into the dough and peeled off yet another clunky bat figure. “This is stupid. Bats aren’t even scary. They're tiny flying rodents. What’s scary about that?”

“Not all of us punch crows, Hannu.” Jonna sped past with a hot baking tray of freshly made bat-buns. 

“You’re smiling,” said Joona. He was kneading the dough on the opposite side of the table. 

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re proud of punching crows, aren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“There are nastier foes than crows, Hannu.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never fought a crow.”

Joona picked up the bun he was working and looked at it thoughtfully. “Maybe we should make crow cakes for Halloween.”

“Maybe this whole holiday is stupid and made up to sell crap, like Valentine’s Day.”

“No, it’s _imported from abroad_ to sell crap. Keep working, bird-slayer, I’m buns ahead of you.”

“Um, Hannu?” Ville poked his head in from the cold storage room. “Can you come here for a minute?”

“No, he can’t,” said Jouko, breezing past tying on a fresh apron. There was a rising crescendo of young voices up front. “We need those bats.”

“Just, uh, just for a second?”

Hannu handed Joona the bat-cutter. “What is it?” he asked as he entered the half-light of the cold storage room, its single lightbulb reflecting off jars and sleek plastic containers. Ville pulled the door close behind him and held out his hands. 

“I just noticed it now. They’ve been tingling…” The insides of his hands were covered in red fur. 

Hannu picked them up. The soft mounds of Ville’s hands felt harder under his hands, like pads. “I guess you’re turning back into a dog.”

“What do we do?” Ville whined. “I can’t work here if I’m a dog! They need me!”

Hannu shrugged. “They’ll just hire someone else. We’ll tell them you found a job in Helsinki as a, I don’t know, content manager or something.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”

“Nobody does, that’s why it’s perfect. And then I adopt another dog--”

“Owhh!” Ville yapped in panic, his form shooting down towards the ground. “Oh, my toes!” 

“Shit.” Ville’s legs had bent and shortened; his nails lengthened and hardened. 

-

The cash register rang as two of Jouko’s bakers stumbled out past the gaggle of schoolchildren, towards the door. “Ville is sick! I have to take him home!”

“No, you don’t, you--”

“I’ll be right back!”

“Make sure of it!” Jouko bit his lip to stop from cursing in front of children and (more importantly) their teacher, then sighed and accepted his fate. 

-

The short day worked in their favour. Instead of up the road, they ran and stumbled up the wet hill into the shadow of the trees. By the time they were completely out of sight of the bakery, Ville’s nose had begun to lengthen, and his trousers hung loose around canine legs. A little kicking and unbuttoning and yanking and he was out of them completely. A last kick of his front legs and there was nothing human left about him. 

“Well. I guess that happened.”

Ville yapped in response, then hung his head. Dogs don’t talk. 

Hannu looked up at the sky, just in case there was a hint of fox-fire lighting it up. Then at least he’d have someone to blame. But the sky stretched out calm and dark, the scatter of stars unmarred by eerie green, and the full moon floating placidly above.

“I like dogs better than people, anyway,” Hannu told Ville, though it wasn’t strictly true. He liked _Ville_ better than people. He picked up the scattered clothes. “Come on, let’s get you home. The adoption story will sound more believable tomorrow.”

\- 

The moon sailed across the sky, from the tips of tall spruces across to a roll of hill, shining on bare rock. Lives that weren’t whispered across slowly freezing earth. Snakes curled up together underground; hares hunkered down together against the night chill.

In Hannu’s house, the lights were low. A dog’s claws rested longingly against the window glass in the living room. A howl stuck in his throat. 

\- 

Ville woke up shivering with cold, though he’d been almost too warm when curling up on the sofa the previous night, the radiator going in the living room. He stretched, yawned, and stood up on his two legs. Oh, well, that was why. He was naked. 

Wait a minute.

He scratched his head, shrugged, and went to get a nice hot shower. 

\- 

“Weren’t you a dog last night?” Hannu asked as he picked up his toothbrush.

Ville spread his arms, then spat out the toothpaste and washed out his mouth. 

“Hmh.” Hannu spread the paste on his brush.

“Do you think it was the full moon? Maybe I’m a werewolf now.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe I’m only a werewolf on Halloween.”

“That’s even stupider.”

Ville looked out the window. The faded moon hung low in the pale white-and-blue of the sunrise. They really had slept late. 

-

He looked it up over breakfast. “Did you know the moon is considered full for three days?” 

“What did I tell you about the Internet?”

“Today was the first day. So if I turn into a dog again tonight, I was right and I’m a werewolf now.”

“You’re a weredog at best. Just don’t bite me,” said Hannu, finishing his glass of milk. “One of us has to go to work.”

-

“All right, you’re a weredog,” Hannu said that night, after the full moon had risen over Hokanniemi. Ville wagged his tail. It was nice to be right for once. 

-

Halloween was over. The paper skull wreaths had been taken down at the bakery and Jonna had snuck in a cheeky mistletoe despite the family policy of No Christmas Stuff before November 15. Business was slow, even at lunch. At least Jouko hadn't asked any questions about Ville's three-day illness.

Paju was drinking coffee at table 3, her cinnamon roll untouched. Hannu was fairly sure the only reason she was there was to stare him down. Unfortunately for her, no customers were allowed in the kitchen. Hannu could technically hide forever, or at least until the end of the shift. 

She caught him going out the back to put the trash out. “I saw you with a dog last night.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“I know, that’s why it’s so weird. I looked a _lot_ like Ville. Dog-Ville. Remember him?”

“You’re imagining things.” He tried escaping back into the bakery, but she caught him by the sleeve. 

“I’m not imagining things. What’s going on? Are you hiding Ville? Is he taking part in illegal dog fights in another town? Has he gone feral? _Did you abandon him?_”

“Don’t be stupid.”

"_Something_ is going on."

“All right then, it was Ville’s ghost. He visits me every Halloween.” Hannu wriggled his fingers mockingly.

Paju let go of his sleeve with a sound of disgust. “Now you’re being stupid.”

“Ville’s secretly been a spirit-animal this whole time.”

“Stop it.” 

“He used to be a dog, but we got enchanted by the spirit of northern lights...”

Paju turned and stormed off. Hannu smiled at her back, rolled his shoulders, sighed, and went back in. “Hey, Ville?”

“Hm?”

“Next Halloween, you should dress up as a werewolf.”

Ville leaned in and lowered his voice, worried. “Isn’t that a bit...”

“Trust me,” Hannu smirked, thinking of the look on Paju’s face. “It’ll pay off.”


End file.
